


Half-time

by zemira



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Classroom Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:46:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1966011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zemira/pseuds/zemira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fed up with Akashi's consistent jealousy, Kouki decides to teach him a lesson by ignoring him, but that all seems to backfire when Seirin faces an unexpected opponent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half-time

**Author's Note:**

> Fic was edited on 6-30-15. Some content may still offend. Read at own risk.

**Kouki!**

Resting down the book he was reading, Furihata glanced at his cell phone. Once again Akashi had spammed his inbox with countless text messages, demanding he respond and listen to what he had to say. He sighed, clearing the screen and returned to the novel, only to be interrupted once more by the buzzing of the same device.

Kouki pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration when the screen revealed the caller’s ID. He knew once the few rings passed, another voicemail would be entering his already overflowing inbox. Akashi could be determined at times, but this shenanigan was beyond ridiculous.

“Geez, how long am I going to have to deal with this?”

It had been over a week since this ridiculous quarrel had begun. Akashi was too overprotective, and really was clueless on how to restrain that habit of his. Kouki had been at an outing with a close friend, unaware his lover had been trying to get a hold of him throughout the day, as he had left his cell phone in his jacket. When Akashi discovered his whereabouts and summarily misunderstood the situation, he threatened to annihilate his friend.

That was the final straw. This occurrence had happened one too many times. Now he was avoiding every contact Akashi attempted, whether it was flooding his phone with messages and calls, or even venturing out to track him throughout Tokyo. During the entire span of their fallout, Akashi refused to admit he had erred. What else did he expect? This was the grand Akashi Seijuro, after all.

_He was absolute._

Furihata rolled over, burrowing himself in one of his pillows as the nuisance resumed its blaring ringing. It wasn’t that he didn’t miss his lover. In fact, each passing day he yearned more and more for his presence, but this issue had transpired too many times, and each time Akashi refused to admit his mistake.

He was long overdue for a lesson – there were times that even he could be in the wrong.

Akashi, however, had other motives in mind, and resumed his campaign. It was at that point Kouki was seriously debating on throwing the device out the window.

Or at least shutting it down for a spell.

“I’ll turn it back on tonight. If there’s no apology by then, I’ll just keep ignoring him.”

He frowned, placing the phone safely on his desk, and vacated the room. At least for the time being he would be at peace. That was, unless Akashi unexpectedly showed up in Tokyo for the tenth time this week. What was he doing? Kouki knew he was busy throughout the day, so where was he finding the leisure to commence these acts?

“Even he has to let up sometime. I mean, he can’t keep this going for much longer.”

Oh, if only he knew how cruel fate could be.

* * *

 

The Seirin player wanted to groan at his misfortune.

Why? Why did this have to be?

Two weeks into their feud and Akashi hadn’t relented, but matters had taken a turn for the worse. Currently Seirin was at another school for a match against a more than skilled team. One of the Generation of Miracles’ schools, as it happened, and Furihata wanted to curse fate when he found out whose.

Rakuzan. Of all the teams out there, it had to be  _his._

There was absolutely no way around avoiding him now, and Akashi had confirmed as much by glaring at him when they first entered the gym.

Under that menacing gaze, one could feel as though they were as insignificant as an insect, and Kouki was certainly feeling that way. Akashi had never graced him with such a loathing expression, and to be entirely honest, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him outright shiver.

Perhaps after Kouki had turned his phone off and stopped visiting his usual whereabouts, Akashi had met a dead end. But now he was here, a few steps away from him, as he stood on the court with Rakuzan’s usual lineup.

He couldn’t have been more thankful Riko didn’t include him in the first quarter, but his escape wasn’t to be permanent.

“Please make this a quick game,” he mumbled anxiously to himself, “Let it end soon.”

Furihata paused in his rambling when he noticed something very peculiar. Was it his imagination, or was Akashi not playing at his best? In fact, at times, he seemed zoned out, maybe even slightly stumbling, which was anything but what the skilled player normally portrayed.

“Sei-chan!” one of his teammates called, “You’re playing the same as you did at practice last time! What’s wrong?”

“Silence,” Akashi hissed, “Your pointless chatter is disrupting my focus.”

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either. Kouki watched as Riko debriefed the other benched players including himself about Akashi’s movements. Something was definitely off. Akashi would never perform so terribly; even on his worst days he was still flawless.

But all thought receded when, once more, he was graced with the same loathing glance. He knew Akashi was irritated at his method of dealing with their quarrel, but now Kouki was beginning to wonder if it went beyond that.

Each time Seijuro fumbled, his concern only magnified. Had something happened to him during the two weeks they were separated, and if so, how severe could it have been if Akashi was performing as he was now?

Perhaps it was time to stop shunning him and discover the truth for himself.

 _‘No,’_  he resolved,  _‘He still hasn’t apologized. Why should I give in?’_

A sigh of relief slipped through his lips when the buzzer echoed throughout the gym. Half time. Finally an escape from that ominous glare, and hopefully a time to consider the matter at hand. Furihata aligned his back to face the other, quickly scurrying out and heading toward the locker room with his teammates.

Enduring the first half of the game had been a challenge, but nothing could have prepared him for Coach’s next words.

“You’re playing in the second half, Furihata-kun.”

Yes, fate surely despised him today.

 “Er, e-excuse me,” he choked, “I need to use the washroom first.”

Trudging through the hallway, Kouki frowned. Where in the world was he heading? He had no idea about the layout of the Rakuzan school, but he needed to quickly retreat from the presence of his teammates. His heart hammered, his pulse vibrating throughout his throat. Within fifteen minutes, he’d be directly in front of Akashi, and after so long, he….

He yelped when he was suddenly pulled from the vacant hallway and into a spare classroom. Moments later, his shoulders protested when they collided with a wall inside the room, sending a brief jolt of pain shooting through him. Once recovered, he gazed ahead and stared straight into the captivating eyes of his lover. The very person he'd been aiming to avoid. Kouki could almost scream at the coincidence, but in his heart he knew there was none.

From the instant this match had been arranged, Akashi would have planned some encounter like this. With how persistent the other had been during their separation, he'd be in serious denial to believe otherwise. This was no spontaneous meeting. Akashi had a strategy, and he'd unwittingly fallen right into the middle of it, as expected.

Whereas his initial expression was of the bone-chilling variety, Akashi's glare soon melted, lips molding into an impish grin.

"I'm pleased that we could make time for each other at last, Kouki."

Kouki’s dread only multiplied at how dangerously calm Akashi’s tone was. He swallowed hard, sideways glancing at the open door. If only he could…

But Akashi’s reflexes were much swifter.

“What’s that?” His arm rested on Furihata’s now pinned hands. “You’re in my territory, and still think you can avoid me? How cute.”

His free hand drifted high on Furihata’s torso, pressing against the bare skin peeking out beneath his basketball jersey to drum against his thundering pulse. Briefly, the mismatched stare glimmered with amusement before once more linking with the smaller boy’s quavering pair.

“Are you truly that nervous?” he purred.

If possible, Kouki’s pulse accelerated further. This deadly calm facade was frightening, terrifying to be exact. What was Akashi intending, and why was he so placid about it?

“You should be.”

The breath he had been constraining ejected when Akashi crushed their mouths together. Though Kouki was relieved he hadn’t met his demise, the situation was an uncertain one. Akashi’s tongue was far too deft, and it had been ages since he last experienced such a dizzying high. He became lost, boneless in the Rakuzan captain’s grasp, and allowed himself to drown in the fervor.

As Kouki began to succumb to the frenzy, the ticking of the clock echoed vaguely in his thoughts. His main tactic then returned, his hazy mind nudging him forward as reality weighed down upon him. His hands pressed against Akashi’s chest, attempting to push him away and divide their connection. 

“Don’t.”

Subdued but firm, his voice rang in Furihata's ear, denying any opportunity for escape. Kouki fruitlessly squirmed, but ultimately gained no ground. His eyes once more rose to peer over at the ticking clock, pointedly aware that time was limited, but Akashi's persistence didn't waver. 

“Kouki,” Lips sealed around the lobe of one of his ears, teeth gently nicking the tender spot. “Don’t you think you kept me waiting for far too long?” The other’s voice winded sinuously, and only part of his meaning absorbed. “After all, you know if we don’t speak, then I’ll be lonely.”

His eyes closed, his mind asserting that he had a strategy, that the next time he faced Akashi he would carry it out no matter what.But the longing in Akashi's tone only made his resistance crumble.He was used to his lover’s ridiculous overtures, but now was not the time. Not when they still had to resolve their argument, not when he still had to apologize for his actions that day.

And _definitely_ not when they were ten minutes away from returning to the court.

“There isn’t enough time.” Hazel eyes snapped open, their depths colored with resolve.

“I don’t mind a challenge. Besides,” Akashi’s tenor altered to one of complete sincerity, “If I have to choose between having the time to talk with you properly later, or rushing that discussion by having it now, I know what my pick would be.”

Kouki’s lips trembled at his declaration, and within moments, he knew he’d lost the battle between his heart and his mind. So long as he had the promise of them smoothing things over later, he wasn’t concerned about what might happen in between then and now.

"Fine," he surrendered, "But I have a feeling I'm going to regret this. Somehow."

His irritated response was punished by fingers boldly searching his front, latching onto the thriving bulge and stroking it into stiffness.

“It would seem you’re content to remain here with me after all, Kouki.” Akashi slowed the pace of his hand ever so agonizingly. “I’ll honor those feelings.”

He wasted absolutely no time, but given how time was ticking each second closer to the team's reunion, there was none to waste.

The pressure against his now unrobed member only intensified as Akashi adjusted his grip. He knew all the right buttons to push, and he took pride in that.

“Don’t you think so, Kouki?” he echoed his early inquiry, "That it's been far too long?"

“Uh huhm, yes, too long.”

Insistent digits sought the tip, pads grazing the bubbling slit. Akashi's lips then ghosted against the other's forehead, rewarding his agreement with a trace of benevolence.

“Don’t you believe it’s cruel, keeping me waiting?”

Before Kouki could utter a somewhat coherent response, those slender digits were shoved through his parted lips. He moaned softly, his tongue coasting along the salty skin and sampling his own fluid.

“Is this your answer?”

The fingers smoothly rubbed against the walls of his mouth, pushing deeper and stimulating color to flood his cheeks. His mind vividly compared the action to the memory of Akashi stroking within him the last time they….

“Do you taste how much you’ve missed me, Kouki?” Akashi grazed his silky cheek, appraising the irritated demeanor.

How could he not be annoyed though? Here he had constantly warned the idiot of the time, and he wanted to play catch up. In under ten minutes.

Seijuro grinned at the hooded, clouded gaze and retreated from his position, eliciting a protesting whine. He fumbled in the desk drawers behind them, shuffling through various objects until he uncovered what he had been searching for.

“Vanilla scented.” He popped open the cap and coated his fingers generously. “Though, in the end, I don’t believe that matters.”

Kouki whimpered when he was loosened, trying to adjust to the sensation of his muscles slowly pulling apart after far too long. He felt the persistent digits briefly pause, and he turned to the side to see his lover's concerned expression. Realizing his sudden cry had been the cause, he slowly nodded, allowing him to continue. His stomach was then aligned with the wall, his backside angled for the Rakuzan captains’ ruttish gaze.

“What a lovely image, Kouki.” His hand slithered forward, cupping the stiff length. “Seems as though you’re more than willing to continue this, but what if I won’t?”

His passionate trance was halted by the threat. No worse punishment could be devised, given his heated state. Akashi wouldn't, he couldn't. 

“What’s stopping me from leaving you in this state? A state you left me in for over two weeks? Should I not return the favor?”

Kouki's breath was constricted. He should have known there was going to be some sort of teasing involved, but this? This was torture. His heart pounded as he awaited Akashi’s next words.

“However, I am far too provoked from waiting within those two weeks to even think of abandoning this now. How fortunate for you.” He paused to do a quick survey of the clock. "Also, we have limited time.”

Kouki wanted to snort at that. No shit. Hadn't he been saying that all along? Perhaps the sexual frustration really had overtaken his lover's brain.

His digits then vanished, swapped for a heated swelling that bumped briefly against Kouki's entrance before gliding inside in one smooth thrust. A vivid groan expelled from Seijuro’s throat, the relief of his desires once more being alleviated more than he’d imagined.

Furihata was stunned. Never in all the times they had coupled had Akashi expelled such an astonishing reaction, but before he had a moment to comprehend it, he was pressed into the wall as Akashi began to hammer powerfully throughout him.

Though he knew this was anything but the plan he’d originated with, Kouki couldn’t help but surrender to the rapture when Seijuro began to bump into that one spot that elicited a sharp gasp from his lips. He groaned softly, his head lolling backwards to lounge on the other's shoulder.

“Bite your lip,” he rasped, “Bite it, Kouki.”

His ivories sunk into his bottom lip, obeying the hoarse command. The lewd noises that evacuated were barely stifled, Kouki crying out when the wondrous friction crashed more and more into his most receptive area. It didn’t ease his libido any when the torridness of Akashi’s breath swept over his nape, sending shivers crawling down his spine. Their staggering rhythm was intense yet ultimately satisfying, rapidly spiriting them both away to oblivion. He knew it wouldn't last, but Kouki was content to let everything simply wash over him, delighting in their connection being fostered anew.

Kouki’s surprise only heightened when Seijuro grunted his name, nuzzling the side of his neck before nipping at the glistening skin. It was a second after that a rush of moisture swept through his heated interiors, but Akashi remained thrusting as powerfully as before, constantly plunging into the same area. The pressure was overwhelming, and Kouki soon tumbled after, Akashi's name on his lips.

Only to be stifled when a hand covered his mouth.

When his trembling subsided, he was treated to the shelter of his lover’s arms wrapping snugly around his midsection. Kouki gratefully allowed Akashi to support him, in that moment realizing how much he’d actually resented their quarrel. He’d needed to make his point clear, but being apart from Akashi for so long was hardly paradisaical.

“Kouki.”

He was unprepared for the wispy tone, quiet to the point where he had to strain to understand it. Akashi continued to indulge in the side of his neck, mismatched eyes shuttered as he rode out the remaining tremors.

“… I apologize.”

Furihata’s pulse ceased. Was Akashi actually admitting to his error?

“I’ve never experienced these types of emotions before,” he murmured, “and I’m having a difficult time in controlling them. Any obstacle in the way of you becomes a problem that I need to eliminate instantly. I didn't mean to act the way I did.”

He gripped onto one of the arms that had enfolded him.

“Akashi-san,” he whispered, “It wasn’t that. I was more hurt on that you don’t trust me.”

The Rakuzan captain raised his head, his eyes slowly gliding open.

“I always trust you, Kouki. Never has there ever been a time I’ve doubted you.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that…” He paused momentarily, an uninvited difficulty dawning on him. “I want to talk some more, but I think it’s almost time for the second half to start.”

His reminder was duly noted, and without a word of protest, their focus turned to clearing away the evidence of their frantic tryst.

* * *

Once they had rearranged their clothing and composed themselves, they had returned to the still vacant hallways. Akashi sighed, glancing up at the clock as their time cruelly expired. Within a few more minutes, the two teams would meet on court for the second half.

“Kouki,” he spoke, eliminating their awkward silence, “What are your plans for the upcoming weekend?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess staying in? It’s supposed to rain.”

Akashi was mute for a moment before delivering a direct response.

“Mm, that would be correct,” he confirmed, “You will be staying in. With me, in my bedroom for two days straight, as you make those entire two weeks up to me.”

Furihata sputtered at the abrupt command.

“… W-what?!”

“Do you really think ten minutes of you is going to satisfy me after all I had to endure?” He chuckled at the widened eyes. “You’re so cute, my Kouki.”

The sounds of approaching footsteps pierced their eardrums. Seijuro glared, peered ahead, and noticed it was coming from the locker room where Seirin was. He pulled the flustered brunet into his arms, planting one last kiss before moving to journey toward his own team’s domain.

“If you’re not here when the game ends, I’ll come find you.” He turned around, the dim lights painting his frame with shadows. “This time, you won’t escape my grasp.”

Kouki barely registered as Kagami rushed into view.

“Furihata, Coach sent me looking for you! Are you all right? You look kind of sick.”

“Erm.”

He was entirely clueless on how to explain the situation, but lucky for him, Kagami was never one to realize the obvious.

“Are you running a fever? Man, you should tell Coach not to put you in the game!”

Not long after, the two Seirin compatriots returned to the gym. Riko advised Kouki to rest in the back, but he knew Akashi would grow anxious if he wasn’t present. He sat instead on the bench, trying not to let his face redden when his teammates, along with Rakuzan commented on how flawless Akashi’s performance now was.

He had uncovered the reason behind his poor conduct the first half, and the cause only made him flush all the more. However, now that the first matter was settled and he no longer had to worry about Seijuro’s well-being, another issue had surfaced.

What the hell was he going to do about his _own_ well-being on the upcoming weekend?

**Author's Note:**

> There is currently a [sequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3253589/chapters/7092260) being developed if you want to check it out.


End file.
